


Miss Right

by rosa_himmelblau



Category: Wiseguy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:49:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29355987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosa_himmelblau/pseuds/rosa_himmelblau
Summary: With Sonny, there are games, there are things that seem like games, and then there are games Vinnie just doesn't understand.





	Miss Right

Sonny, Vinnie discovered, didn't get spring fever. Instead he seemed to get hit with a summer variant of the same malady: as soon as July hit and the days got long and hot, he started acting kind of—exuberant. The quick lunches at his desk were replaced with long lunches at a little restaurant on the boardwalk —lunches he and Vinnie snuck out for, which didn't make much sense since Sonny owned the place they were sneaking out of. But Vinnie didn't mention that.

So they started spending two, three, four afternoons a week sitting at a little table under a big sun umbrella, first eating lunch, then drinking orange juice. Vinnie would have preferred beer, but Sonny always ordered for him, always said he ate crap and needed to take better care of himself. Apparently orange juice was Sonny's panacea.

The game started the on the fourth day. Vinnie was a little fuzzy on the rules, which were entirely unspoken, but the object seemed to be to pick out each other's perfect woman, which should have been easy enough except that the question of _perfect for what?_ had been left up in the air. One night stand, saying _I do_ with, or something in between? Vinnie had assumed the first, since they were, after all, basing their selections on nothing but how a woman looked as she walked by them on the boardwalk, which hardly gave either of them enough to base a long-term relationship on. Still, Sonny seemed to have something else in mind, so while Vinnie vetoed girls for reasons like they were too skinny or lacked cleavage, Sonny had more esoteric reasons for disqualifying Vinnie's selections.

The first one couldn't cook. Sonny didn't say how he could tell this, just what it was about the way she stood resting her hip against the railing as she tied her hair up off her neck into a messy ponytail that told him her idea of dinner was Rice Krispies, but he assured Vinnie this was the case. Nor did he elaborate on how he could tell the second one, a blonde in a red halter and black shorts, had a houseful of cats. "Not to mention, she'd want to redecorate the whole hotel," Sonny added dismissively.

"Yeah, sure she would. How could I have missed that?" Vinnie asked sarcastically. "Just look at her red sandals."

"You just don't know how to read people," Sonny had said mildly.

The latest girl, a knock-out brunette in a pair of pink short-shorts —Sonny was sure was a Democrat.

"Would you mind telling me how you gleaned that just from watching a woman buy a sno-cone?" Vinnie asked. "I don't know where you're looking, but from where I'm sitting, I can't see a bumper sticker anywhere on her —bumper."

Sonny's lips silently formed the word "gleaned," and he smiled at Vinnie as though he was very proud of him, but he didn't answer the question. "Go ask her if you don't believe me."

Vinnie stared at him for a minute. "Is this a trick?"

"What kind of trick would it be?" Sonny motioned at the waiter to bring them more orange juice.

"Like maybe you know her already."

"You think I'd cheat?" Sonny asked, and even if Vinnie thought he would, he could hardly have said yes. "So go ask her."

Vinnie got up, thinking that after he went over and asked a woman he'd never seen before who she voted for in the last election, he was ordering a beer, no matter how bad it would taste as an orange juice chaser.

"Excuse me," he said, smiling as charmingly as he could. "My friend and I have a bet going, and we were hoping you could settle it for us."

She smiled a bit apprehensively, looking where Vinnie motioned, at the table where he and Sonny had been sitting, then she looked at him strangely. "Your friend?" she asked. "Would this be your imaginary friend?"

Vinnie looked at the table. Not only was Sonny not there, neither was his glass of orange juice. Vinnie's glass sat there alone.

Vinnie shook his head. "Never mind. Thanks anyway."

When Vinnie got back to the office, Sonny was sitting behind his desk, going through the previous day's receipts. "Another three hour lunch, Mr. Terranova?" Sid asked, and Sonny half-laughed.

"Not at all," Vinnie said, stuck his hand in his pocket, and pulled out a handful of change. "I've been busy checking the sofa and chairs in the lobby for loose change for you, Sid, hoping I could find some pennies for you to pinch for Mr. Patrice." He grabbed Sid's hand and dropped the change into his palm.

Sonny didn't laugh, but Vinnie knew he wanted to. Instead he said, "See there, Sidney, you've made a profit for today. Now you can go back to your office and count it and when you call Pat, he'll be real proud of you." When the door was closed behind him, Sonny did laugh.

"Thanks for setting me up," Vinnie said. "She thought I was making you up."

"Yeah, wha'd you tell her?"

"That you'd gone to the powder room. By the way, she's not a Democrat, she's a Libertarian. And I got something for you." Vinnie let a small piece of notebook paper flutter down onto Sonny's desk, then went to sit down on his uncomfortable sofa.

"What's this?"

"Her phone number. I told her you were too shy to talk to her, so you sent me to feel her out."

"Yeah? How much of a feel you get?"

"Enough to get you her phone number." Vinnie knew he'd never call, not with her being a Libertarian.

But Sonny picked up the paper and looked at it for several minutes before crumpling it and dropping it in the trash.

"You don't like Libertarians?"

Sonny shook his head. "You think I'm gonna marry a girl who'd give you her phone number the first time she sees you?"

 _Marry?_ Vinnie wondered. _**Marry??**_


End file.
